Logs:Two Ovines Packed Together. About to Be Eaten.
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| RL Date: 27 July, 2016 |
| Who: Lys, T'gar, Asaroth, Evyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Asaroth catches Evyth in her third flight. |
| Where: Guest Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 5, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Edyis/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, V'ret/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Glossy sex. |
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| By Evyth's third flight, the signs of the green intent to mate are becoming a familiar pattern. Lys has worn a sunny, carefree smile since she awoke this morning and still wears it now as she stretches lazily against T'gar. Her blonde head is leaning against his shoulder, hair mussed, fingers lazily moving on bare flesh, not yet fully free of the sated grip of her lifemate. The drizzle of the rain persists outside and Evyth may have been surprised to find Asaroth the partner for her-- uh, romance? But she's well-satisfied now, so her thoughts in the moment of being caught are hardly important, right? The first sign that Lys is coming more back to herself is the roll of her body against the bronzerider so she can push herself up a little and look down at him. "I thought it was you," doesn't sound disappointed, though not as lovey-dovey as Evyth's adoring thoughts are toward her mate of the moment. Asaroth is likely equally surprised that he had caught someone. Not that he hasn't before. He's there, settled with Evyth and being uncharactaristically gentlemanly at the moment. He's trying to shield her some from the rain with his ugly wing, and he may not say much to her but there's a load of images and scents being sent her to convey what he will not say. At least the smell and images aren't off-putting, for once. As for his rider, T'gar is there on the bed, sated beside Lys. He's half-asleep, only aware that Lys was coming to when her body moves against his. "Mm," comes from his throat, but the bronzerider doesn't move yet. When she speaks, he takes in breath before he indulgently give into a full body stretch. "Disappointed? I can go and get your...one of yours," he states once his stretch is done and his eyes open more. Evyth is deeply appreciative of this kinder side of Asaroth, not that she's generally seemed to mind him as he normally is, but there's a time and place for gentlemanly behavior and she's all the more adoring because he seems to know that. She takes his chivalry with grace and gratitude and snuggles closer. Meanwhile, Lys appears to contemplate the question before quickly whipping a pillow to hand and meaning to bop his chest with it, though the move could easily be blocked. "Nah," comes with a grin, "Figured Asaroth would catch Evy sometime, and now I can brag I've seen you naked." Because so many people want to hear that, right? "We could even go again," this comes with a more thoughtful pause as if T'gar is now being weighed on his own merits since he won't have Asaroth's help if there's a round two. The matter of her whoever is not addressed. T'gar is deft at blocking a pillow coming his way, but he's smiling now. "Sometime," he echoes that word dryly. "You've had no desire to see me naked and show it off to everyone, Lys, rider of Evyth," he adds that loftily as he reaches down to try a light smack of her exposed bottom. "Just because I'm skilled doesn't mean you have to ply on all the compliments now." When is he not teasing, really? All teasing mostly aside, he fits her with a casual study at her offer, the luring lingers of his dragon lust indeed gone. After a moment, "Do you want another go with me?" he chooses to turn the question right back on her now, his head tilting to angle a look at her. The smack and accompanying remark, with its lofty tone, earns a little yelp and then laughter that the blonde seeks to smother in that pillow that can be now shield instead of weapon. When Lys lifts her head a moment later, she's smiling broadly, "I've never needed to want to see you naked. All those trips to the hot springs..." She trails off with a low, appreciative whistle, her tone giving as good as she gets in so far as the teasing goes. But then there's that detour to something more serious; perhaps she hadn't been expecting to have that particular inquiry turned back, to have to think on the offer she made beyond having made it. It's a moment of studying his face before she answers. "Yeah. Maybe not enough to mess up our friendship over, though, if it would. Lost enough friendships over sex," comes with a little grimace. "I did dump Jocelyn. Or she dumped me. Or we dumped each other. And aside from this morning, which was an accident, she's not really speaking to me." One friendship down because of sex (well, and honesty, but that's just details). T'gar smirks at that little yelp sounds Lys makes, and her answer to nakedness earns her a wry "Oh, I see. Ogle me like I'm a piece of runner meat at the springs without even telling me." He sighs in mock tones to that, shaking his head. "And you women want to call us men bad when it comes to ogling. Well, I know now." He nudges at her, rough fingers seeming to deliberately brush the fleshy side of her breast in the process. But then, only more serious topics. He watches her as she speaks on sex and friendships, and Jocelyn, before he sits up more to face her. He levels his gaze on her steadily, perhaps to ensure that he has her attention before he says back, "Look, I'm not trying to weyrmate you, so there's nothing to worry about, is there? Our friendship is silly and solid. We're like...two ovines packed together. About to be eaten. All of that. Sex doesn't have to be more than it needs to be. I'm not Jocelyn, though, I know I sometimes get mistaken for her." "The resemblance is uncanny," Lys quickly agrees, "both in looks and demeanor," her tone deadpan all the way. "I've always thought so, even in my early days of ogling you like the very bad woman I am." Her lips curve into a softer smile after a moment before confessing, "I've always considered flights to be 'my' time anyway. Outside of whatever else might be going on. It's a bubble of-- just fun, you know?" Her brow furrows as she regards him though, "Or maybe you don't. Asaroth hasn't caught any greens with really clingy crazy riders, has he?" Note, she said clingy and crazy, so she's disqualified from consideration. "You know, Jocelyn wondered if we were missing out because our dragons could never mate." There's something a little raw in that admission - a wound that festers. Of course, Lys is nothing if not a master of distraction, and now she shifts, to slide a knee over his hips to sit astride him. "It's undeniable, of course, that the dragon-inspired part is great." She'll even grin at him for that. "Clearly," Rat says on resemblances. "I think folks are starting to think I just hide my gold dragon underneath bronze paint. Apparently bronzeriders have all the fun." On flights, "I've heard other greenriders say that," he admits on flights being their own time. "Not everyone's going to see it that way. The ones that don't ride on green dragons. Flights aren't meant to be taken seriously anyway, I would think." As for mention of Asaroth, he looks towards the ledge before there's a slight shrug and a, "Well. He's not exactly one of those bronzes that chases anything that moves. I haven't dealt with any clingy riders, but then, I usually don't stick around we're all back to our senses, either." There's a slight frown on something told from Jocelyn before he asks, "She means greenrider?" But now she's straddled him and his hands find her hips easily enough. "At least Evyth's now picking dragons with riders you hate. There can always be awkwardness." "I'm sure Asaroth is tickled by that notion," comes with wry humor that demonstrates some measure of understanding (probably courtesy of Evyth) about the bronze in question. "I guess I wonder if the sex with Edyis was just that fucking good that it made her question everything we had. I'd like to think I'm pretty good in bed," Lys is frowning though, and that may be all the answer T'gar is going to get about Jocelyn. "Ugh," is frustrated, "this is not inspirational. I hereby ban any discussion of people whose names begin with the letters J, E or V until we've had our fun." Because that's what this is: fun. "It might even be one of those 'the less talking the better' kind of moments," she contemplates, even as she dips her head to try to catch his lips for a kiss that would preclude some of that for at least a little while. "He's not tickled by anything I throw his way," comes from T'gar in regards to his dragon. "Unless it's rotting." He shakes his head on the flight and sex between Edyis and Jocelyn before he nudges her again and says, "It's not about who's good or not in bed. It's a flight. Just a flight." It seems simple to him enough to say so, laughing gently at Lys and her return to fun - mainly, the less talking moments where her lips are on his and his hands already have minds of their own in seeking bare skin. There's plenty of bare skin to be found, for where's the fun in fun if it comes with shame or self-consciousness? Lys has neither for the duration, nor does she seem to be in any hurry to see the fun come to an end, a playful participant to the proceedings until they've thoroughly exhausted one another beyond words. Sleep - real sleep - is then a contented, restful thing for the greenrider, tucked comfortably with her back along T'gar's frame. One can only sleep for so long, even when it's real sleep, without nightmares, so eventually she stretches as she wakes, groggily lifting her head only to put it back down. "Klah," is what comes out of her mouth in a groan, even if she might have meant it to be 'good morning.' She eyes the direction of the dawn light starting to filter into the flight weyr, whimpers a little and buries her face in the pillow. Lys is not a morning person. His body flushed with exertion, T'gar must be a morning person in contrast. The man is awake but staying in bed until he feels Lys stir beside him. He stays quiet until she speaks, the one words drawing a grin perhaps unseen by her. "It's a long ass walk," is his return greeting on that klah, though by the tone of his voice, he doesn't seem nearly as groggy as Lys does. T'gar's cheerful truth is met by another whimper, this one complete with a little (fake) sob. It takes her a moment to rally in the face of reality: klah, so far away, but Lys manages to sit up after a moment, reach up and scratch an itch on her head and then let her fingers comb through tangled hair to assess the damage. The glances to the not nearly so groggy bronzerider, blinking a little. "Hi." She might (in the back of her mind) be calculating whether or not he would actually come back if she managed to convince him to go get some klah for her in the first place. Watching her wake up fully, Rat is leaning back and looking for all the world as if he has all the time in the world. Eyeing her hair, the way she scratches, and there's low laughter before he says, "Hey. Don't tell me I've worn you out." He has to tease, still. After a brief pause, "I can get us some klah," he offer then with a yawn. "But, next time you find yourself taking advantage of me because of your dragon, you're getting the klah and food." He's straightening up then, getting out of the bed without a scrap of clothing on him as he reaches for a shirt. "Don't give yourself too much credit, the day leading into everything did its fair share," Lys quips, though his yawn might well the the source of hers that echoes it. "Can you bring four cups? I'm not awake until my third." It's hardly a secret that the greenrider practically lives on klah, even when she wasn't doing as much as possible to keep herself "legitimately" busy. "I usually have a wingmate bring things to the weyr for me," probably in trade for doing the service for one of her fellow greenriders, "but I don't think even the favors I've earned lately would cover a dawn delivery by anyone who isn't already on duty." Which is to say, with her sweetest smile, "Please?" For the klah and breakfast. "But only if you promise to feel extra taken advantage of," she adds as a still sleepy afterthought, smile turning a little silly. "Ego-buster," Rat declares of Lys with a look. He's up and about, picking up pieces of clothing and putting them on one by one save for the shirt. Might as well be topless. "I'm up before the sun comes up," he explains as he dresses. "Just a habit I kept from working in the stables. Helps me stay active longer in the day. You should come run with me one morning. Might like it." Right. Dressed, her last earns a snort and smile as he answers back on the way out, "Uh-huh. Yeah, I bet." "I run!" is called to T'gar's back as he goes. The grumble of, "Just when sane people do it. After Rukbat has had three cups of klah," might carry, but only just. If the familiar banter is anything to go by, Lys and T'gar probably haven't ruined their silly, solid friendship with the night of post-flight indulgence. She'll probably even tease him more after her three cups of klah, just to be sure. |
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